


when the party's over

by legitimatecacti (paigepussgurka)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Break Up, Explicit Language, Grief/Mourning, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Mentions of Sex, Minor Character Death, Recovery, Sobriety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:35:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24094444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paigepussgurka/pseuds/legitimatecacti
Summary: It starts small. Like most things do.
Relationships: Kita Shinsuke/Miya Atsumu
Comments: 12
Kudos: 78





	when the party's over

**Author's Note:**

> CONTENT WARNING: This story heavily features alcohol abuse/alcohol addiction! If you or a loved one are struggling with substance abuse https://drugabuse.com/alcohol/hotlines/ has a list of resources.
> 
> So I wanted to write more funny, light-hearted AtsuKita. But this came out instead. So. Time to suffer.  
> Regarding some of the more sensitive tags (e.g. death, alcoholism, etc), skip to the notes at the bottom if you'd like more info before reading (although spoiler alert of course).
> 
> A little mood playlist for ya:  
> 1\. It Ain't Me (Cover) by Kurt Hugo Schneider ft. Kina Grannis  
> 2\. when the party's over by billie eilish  
> 3\. Medicine by Daughter  
> 4\. Heartbeats (Cover) by José González

It starts small. Like most things do. Just the occasional drink or two (or three, maybe four) with some of his teammates after a press event or a rough practice. It’s a way for Atsumu to relax, to shut up that voice in his head that keeps asking why he’s not a regular yet, why he’s still just a substitute. Between those nights out and coming home to the love of his life, he gets through. 

Kita-san doesn’t quite approve, he says drinking will “hurt Atsumu’s performance” but it’s not like he’s having to _perform_ anyway. Besides, it’s not like he’s out getting shitfaced and fucking randoms. He has a few drinks and still comes home to Kita every single night. Yeah, it’s a little later than he means to sometimes, and yeah, sometimes he doesn’t answer his phone. But it’s not like Shinsuke’s his fucking keeper, he’s his boyfriend. And even though women and men throw themselves at him left and right, he doesn’t fuck around, and that’s a fuckin’ accomplishment. Shinsuke’s in college, he should get it, don’t most college types go out all the time? He can be so damn lame, always focused on studying and work. So what if Atsumu goes out sometimes? He has his shit under control. 

Which is exactly why it pisses him off so much that he’s _still_ a backup. He gets closer with some of the other extras ‘cause they _get_ it. They’re pissed, too. So they all start going out for drinks together a few times a week. It’s not as big of a deal as Shinsuke makes it out to be. To appease him, the next time he has some time off from volleyball he takes them on a little weekend getaway, but Shinsuke _still_ isn’t happy. (Okay, so maybe he had a beer a little early in the day, but they’re on fucking vacation, who cares? And yeah, he passed out in the middle of foreplay, but he would’ve had whiskey dick anyway, and if Shinsuke was so mad about not having sex _one time_ he should try putting out more often in the first place.) Things actually seem to be worse when they get back, so Atsumu starts avoiding coming home. He doesn’t need that shit.

One night it’s really hard to open the door. He worries for a second that Shinsuke did something crazy like changed the locks, but then he realizes he’s using the wrong key. After a few more tries, he gets it unlocked and slips inside, doing his best to be quiet. He’s a little drunk, and he knows Shinsuke will be pissed if he wakes up and sees him sneaking in like this. His shoes prove equally as difficult as the door was.

“Fuckin’ dammit, stupid...” He’s barely aware he’s even talking at this point and it’s _really_ rough trying to get a hold of his shoelaces. The hall light turns on and for a second he’s grateful, it’s a lot easier to see his stupid fucking shoes now. But then he hears a sniffle and immediately wishes he had just crashed somewhere else.

“You’re drunk,” Shinsuke’s voice is like steel and Atsumu really _really_ doesn’t wanna deal with this.

“Why’re’n’t you sleeping?”

“You weren’t answering your phone, I was worried. How much did you drink? You got a game tomorrow, Atsumu.” This asshole still talks like Atsumu’s gonna get to _play_ , what bullshit.

“What’s it matter t’you? I’m fuckin’ _home_ aren’t I?” He finally gets a shoe off, but he has to take a second to focus on not puking before he starts on the second one. He hears Shinsuke take a long, measured breath behind him. Ugh. “What d’you fuckin’ _want_ , Shinsuke? What, what is it?”

“Granny’s sick.” That’s not what he expects to hear and his brain feels swampy as he tries to process it along with the tremble in Shinsuke’s voice.

“...Huh?”

“I’m takin’ a train back home tomorrow. I’ll be there a few days, to take care of her.”

“This’s...too much right now, babe.” His brain swamp is formidable and he really just wants to go to bed, wants Shinsuke to lay him down and play with his hair, maybe fool around a little, until he falls asleep. He’ll deal with whatever Shinsuke’s talking about in the morning. He holds his pounding head in his hands for a second, swaying a bit, before standing up. The hallway seems a lot longer than it usually is and he stumbles over the loose laces of his remaining shoe, but eventually he gets his arms around Shinsuke’s waist. He can’t quite see his face, his vision’s swimming a little too much, but manages to land a kiss on his neck (he figures he’s imagining the way Shinsuke cringes away). “Lessgo t’bed.”

Shinsuke pushes him away and Atsumu feels angry. “You’re drunk,” he says, refusing to look at Atsumu as he goes back into their bedroom and closes the door behind him. The click of the lock only pisses him off more. He makes it to the couch and falls into it face-first. Why does Shinsuke have to be such a dick sometimes?

Atsumu starts sleeping on the couch and Shinsuke starts going back to Hyogo every weekend. Atsumu had thought he would be lonely, but instead it just gives him two nights and two days of staying out as late as he wants doing whatever the fuck he feels like doing. He asks if Atsumu will come with him one weekend, but he just doesn’t feel like being stuck with his lame-ass boyfriend in the middle of nowhere. After a month of weekends to himself, why would he? He has a great fuckin’ time! Shinsuke always gives him a lecture and a cold shoulder when he gets back, but what else is new about that? 

He’s enjoying a nice drunk nap on the living room floor Sunday night, surrounded by bottles and takeout containers, when Shinsuke comes and ruins it. He waits for the lecture, but it doesn’t come. It takes a minute, but he finally manages to get his eyes to focus on Shinsuke’s face and he’s a little taken aback by the tears he sees. Why is he crying?

“I can’t do this, Atsumu. I just––I...”

“Wha? Babe, why’re you cryin’?”

“It’s too much, okay? I’ve been tryin’ to give you time, give you space, but...” he takes a deep, shuddering breath, “Granny needs me. And I can’t take care of her _and_ you. ‘Specially when you don’t even _want_ help.” He’s never heard Kita Shinsuke raise his voice like this, and all it does it piss him off.

“Help with what? I don’ need yer help!”

“I know you’re on probation with the Jackals.”

“Tha’s none’a yer fuckin’ business.”

“You get _plastered_ drunk, _every day_ ,” Shinsuke’s voice breaks and he sobs once. Alarm bells go off in the back of Atsumu’s head but he’s too fucking drunk to deal with this.

“Calm down––”

“No, fuck you! I take care of your drunk ass all week _while_ goin’ to school and work, then I take a fuckin’ _four hour_ train to Hyogo, take care of my _sick grandma_ for two days, then I take _another four hour_ train just to come home to a fuckin’ _mess_ of an apartment and a piss drunk boyfriend! What the _fuck_! D’you even realize what you’re doing?!”

“Fuck _you_! Y’don’t have to fuckin’ take care of me! All you do is give me shit! Just leave me alone, _fuck_!” Shinsuke gets very quiet after that. Atsumu watches carefully as all the emotion suddenly slides off his face, leaving only a blank expression behind. It makes his stomach hurt.

“I’m done, Atsumu. I’m goin’ back to Hyogo tomorrow and...I’m not comin’ back.”

“Cut the shit, Shinsuke, I’m fuckin’ _sorry,_ alright? There. Ya happy?”

“G’night,” Shinsuke says, not even sparing Atsumu a glance as he steps over him to the bedroom. The click of the lock is far too familiar and still pisses him off. Whatever. He’ll chill out tonight and they’ll be back to normal tomorrow. His head is throbbing from so much noise and his buzz is entirely gone so he goes into the kitchen to grab another beer.

In the morning he’s sober, but his brain still feels swampy anyway. He’s just gotten home from a run to the liquor store and Shinsuke’s key is on the kitchen counter. As he walks through the silent apartment, he realizes all of his boyfriend’s things are gone. He tries to text, tries to call, but the texts all bounce back, the calls don’t go through. He gets a text later that night, when he’s halfway through a bottle of rum, but it’s not from Shinsuke. It’s from Osamu. And all it says is _what the fuck did you do_.

* * *

The months go by in a haze of blackouts. His phone logs show he tries to call Kita most nights, but the call never connects. He doesn’t remember anyway. Osamu comes by most days, to clear out all the booze stashes he finds (no matter how well Atsumu hides them, he wishes they didn’t have the same brain), get some food in him, but mostly to holler at him. Ask him how he can fuckin' sleep while he’s doing this to him, to Kita-san, to everyone that cares about him, to _himself_. But he doesn’t know what the fuck ‘Samu’s talking about. Atsumu’s life is already garbage so why should he give a fuck?

He remembers ending up in the hospital at one point with all kinds of IVs and tubes everywhere, remembers how fuckin' wrung out Osamu had looked. He remembers getting a single text from Kita Shinsuke. It had just said _Take care of yourself_ , and all he could think of past the pain (in his chest, his throat, his stomach, his _head_ ) was a plastic bag left in the locker room, filled with pickled plums and medicine. Kita never responds to any of his follow up texts. 

When it happens again less than a month later, Kita sends _Please, Atsumu, please take care of yourself_. Osamu gives him an ultimatum: get help or die. He thinks it’s a dumb fucking choice, what’s the point of being alive if this is what it’s like. But something about the look on his brother’s face, a face that he knows as well as his own, has him agreeing to the former. Besides. Kita-san said please.

Osamu stays on his ass about it. The therapist helps. The group meetings are weird but he gets used to them, makes a few newly-sober acquaintances (a guy named Terushima offers to fix his hair after giving him shit about it, and he genuinely can’t remember the last time he got it cut and colored so he takes him up on it). Ojiro Aran mails him a book at one point ( _mails_ it, like it’s fuckin’ 1900), it’s looks like a cheesy self-help thing but it’s not bad. Reading it gives him something to do at night when he can’t sleep, something other than thinking about how much he hates himself. And it gives him an excuse to text Aran about it. Osamu keeps telling him to hit up his old friends, he’s never been good at staying in touch but ‘Samu says it’d be good for him to “reconnect with some actual functional adults.” The next time Aran is in town, he and Osamu get dinner with him. If he notices that Atsumu, who’d always hated soda, specifically orders a Coke, he doesn’t mention it. Suna Rintarou is around a lot (always far more touchy feely with his brother than Atsumu wants to think about) and they still bicker, but it gives him more people to hang out with. He still can’t stand how empty his apartment is, so any excuse to not be there that also avoids the bottle is something he jumps on.

That’s how he ends up agreeing to go to the mini-reunion that Osamu’s trying to put together. Everyone from the old team is supposed to be coming and ‘Samu’s closing the restaurant for the night to host it. As it gets closer, he feels less and less sure (and more and more nauseous) about it.

What if Kita is there? What is he supposed to say? Should he avoid him? Should he act normal? Should he fall to his knees in apology and beg Kita to take him back? That last one is half a joke, half deadly serious (‘cause there’s a big, bloody hole in his chest where his heart probably used to be because that bastard still has it). Would Kita even consider it? Would Kita even want to _see_ him? Astumu has been sober for 15 weeks now, he’s kind of got his shit together. He’s getting his hair regularly cut and colored again, and it’s actually a nice blonde now instead of what ‘Samu referred to as “piss yellow” (Terushima is a bastard, but he’s a damn hair wizard). He actually has _food_ in his fridge these days, and not even just pre-made shit, he has _fresh produce_ , and sometimes he manages to use it all before it goes bad. He _reads_ ( _books_ ). MSBY even took him off probation a month ago and he’s nearly back in shape. He’s doing better and he’s honest to god _trying_. But he doesn’t dare to think it would be enough. He _really_ fucked things up. _Fuck_ , his grandma was sick and all Atsumu did was screw around and fight with him. Kita had needed him, and he’d let him down. He’d made Kita raise his voice, made him cry. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever really forgive himself, so how could he expect Kita to forgive him?

So he dreads it. Dreads the possibility that he’ll have to face the music, to lie in the shitty bed he’s made. But when the day comes and all their old teammates are sitting around Onigiri Miya shootin’ the shit, Kita isn’t there. Riseki is the one who finally asks about it. Aran and Akagi both glance at each other then at Atsumu (like that doesn’t _make him want to die_ or anything) before Aran eventually answers.

“He has to stay in Hyogo. His, uh...his grandma is...uh...”

“She’s dying,” Akagi says, ever one to rip off the bandaid, and takes a swig from the beer in his hand. A chorus of sympathetic murmurs goes around the room and Atsumu genuinely feels like he’s gonna throw up. Someone changes the subject but he’s not listening anymore, even if he wanted to. He can’t hear anything over the ringing in his head and the taste of bile on the back of his tongue. Osamu takes one look at him and drags him back into the prep room.

“What dumb fuckin’ idea is in your dumb fuckin’ head right now?”

“I––I,” Atsumu swallows harshly, “I gotta go. I gotta be there with him.”

“ _Why_.”

“‘Cause he’s the fuckin’... _love of my life_ and I can’t just...I _can’t_ ––I have t’help him.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you did a real good job last time.”

“Fuck you.”

“No, really, tell me, the fuck are you gonna do to ‘help’ him?”

“I––”

“What if you relapse?” That shuts him up, but Osamu barrels on, “You’ve only been sober for 4 fuckin’ months. Is that part’a this li’l fantasy? What if it’s too stressful, what if it's _too much_ , and you _relapse_? Huh?” Atsumu has no answer so Osamu twists the knife, “Okay. Let’s pretend. Let’s walk it through. You go to Hyogo. You can’t warn Kita-san ‘cause he blocked yer ass, so you just _show_ up. Bringin’ aaaaaall that baggage with you. And maybe he lets ya stay. Maybe he does. Then what? Y’hold his hand while his grandma _dies_? And if you relapse, if you fuckin’ start drinkin’ again, then you’ll be just another miserable goddamn problem for him to deal with _while his grandma dies_! Like, are you fuckin’ _serious_? Will you consider––I mean, I _know_ ya never done it before--but will ya consider his feelings, _his_ needs? For _two goddamn seconds_? Isn’t he dealin’ with enough without all yer _bullshit_? _Fuck_!”

Atsumu is quiet. It pisses him off to hear all that, it pisses him off so much he wants to punch something, break something, _drink_. But it’s true. It pisses him off because _it’s true_. Still, he can’t just do nothing, not again. So he makes a compromise. He’ll call. Just a call. Shinsuke will probably ignore it, send it to voicemail. But he has to do _something_.

Atsumu sits on his couch that night and his hands are shaking as he pulls up Kita’s number. He’d lost or broken a couple phones when he’d been drinking, had lost all of his contacts and photos time and time again. But never Kita’s number. He’d memorized it ages ago, committed it to memory. And even months of binge drinking and blackouts couldn’t erase it from his head. He just wishes he still had the old contact photo. It had been from the early days of their relationship, low quality and blurred with motion. In the center of the shot was Shinsuke on his back, lying amidst the black sheets of Atsumu’s bed at his parents’ house. Mid-laugh while Atsumu made some stupid joke. Pink cheeks, kiss-bitten lips, and a hickey just barely visible at the neck of his t-shirt. He could still see the photo in his head, had seen it light up his screen a hundred times whenever his boyfriend had called. He misses it and he hates himself a little more for being the reason it’s gone (along with thousands of other photos _and the fuckin’ relationship itself_ ). 

But at least he still has the number. It’s small, but it’s something, somewhere to start. It rings for a long time (which tells him that Kita at least doesn’t have him blocked anymore). When it finally gets to voicemail, Atsumu nearly cries at the sound of Kita’s recorded voice. He takes a deep breath and holds it until he hears the tone.

“Uh, hi. It’s me. A-Atsumu...Miya,” He cringes at his own fumbling, “Ugh, fuck. I dunno, uh...I dunno how to do this but...I heard about yer granny. I’m so fuckin’ sorry, Shinsuke.” The name feels so good, so natural falling off his tongue that it takes a second for him to realize he doesn’t have the right to use it anymore. “Sorry, fuck, _Kita-san_. I, god, I’m...I’m sorry. I'm sorry ‘bout _everything_. Everything I did, everything I put ya through. I...I know I fucked up. And I get if ya never wanna see me again. I’ve let ya down so many times. When ya needed me I...I wasn’t there. But it’s fuckin’ killin’ me to think that yer going through this alone and I––Fuck, I’m really bunglin’ this up, too. But I guess...I guess what I’m sayin’ is...I wanna help. However I can, however you’ll let me. Just say it and it’s yours. If ya need money, or–or food? Fuck, I don’t know! If ya need me to fuck off and never bother you again, if that’ll help, I’ll–I’ll do it! I’ll do _anything_ , just...Uh. I guess...I guess that’s all I got. So.” He swallows the lump in his throat and takes a shaky breath before he decides to put himself out of his own misery. “Bye, Kita-san. I love y––uh. Bye.”

Holy shit, he can’t believe he ended it like that. How could he have fucked that up so badly? A sad, embarrassed part of him wants to drink. To forget the stupid shit he just said, the stupid shit he’s done. He forces himself to acknowledge it, to remember his own weakness, before making the effort to stand up, put some shoes on, and go for a fuckin’ run. If he’s running, if he can barely breathe, then he can’t think stupid shit like that.

Later that night, Atsumu is saved from one of his recurring stress dreams (the one where he’s in Osamu’s body but he doesn’t know how to make anything on the menu at Onigiri Miya so all the customers are hollerin’ at him, it’s hell) when his phone starts vibrating. He fishes it out from under the bed and squints at the screen. He isn’t sure what he expected. Maybe ‘Samu callin’ to check in on him (which was really just code for making sure he wasn’t drinking) or Bokkun callin’ to ask him stupid questions (that guy had no fuckin’ sense). Maybe even his Ma, calling to see if he was asleep just so that she could chastise him for bein’ awake if he answered. 

He did not expect, at 03:51AM, to see the name Kita Shinsuke. He stares at his screen for so long that he nearly misses the call.

“H-Hello? Shin––Kita?” Fuck, honorific. “San?” The only thing he hears for the first few seconds is shuddered breaths, interrupted by sharp inhales that tell him Kita must be crying. He feels like he’s gonna puke. “Kita-san?”

“ _Sorry_.” It’s muffled and tinny as it comes through the speaker, but it’s Shinsuke’s voice all the same and Atsumu’s heart squeezes painfully in his chest.

“Don’t apologize. Not to me. Fuck, you _never_ need to apologize to me.”

“ _Did I wake you?_ ”

“Don’t worry about it.” When Kita doesn’t respond he realizes that, like Osamu’s check-ins and his mother’s calls, this is code. The real question is unspoken ( _Are you awake because you're drinking?_ ). “I was asleep. Really. I’m, uh...I don’t drink anymore.” 

“... _How long?_ ”

“15 weeks.” Kita stays quiet so he pushes on. “‘Samu helped me find a therapist. And, uh, I do a group meeting thing every week. For, uh,” He steels himself, like he always does before he says it out loud, “For alcoholics. Shin––Kita-san, did you...did ya get my voicemail?”

“ _Yeah_.”

“Oh, good. Um. Good.” A minute passes, then two. All in silence before Atsumu decides he should probably grow a pair and say somethin’.

“My message was really...fucky. But I meant it. I’m really sorry. About yer granny. And about everythin’ I did to you. I was...so fuckin’ selfish. I always was. I still kinda am. Callin’ you was selfish, ‘Samu thought so. But, god, I miss you so fuckin’ much. I was so selfish, so focused on my own bullshit, and I wasn’t there for you. I...I chose the booze. I chose the booze over you. And I hate myself for that. Because ya don’t deserve that, Kita-san. You were so good to me, for so long, and I fuckin’ wasted it. Even before the drinkin’, I wasted it. I took you for granted. I was selfish and shitty and...I’m sorry. You don’t have t’forgive me. Ever. But I’m so fuckin’ sorry,” Atsumu took a deep breath, “But what about the other thing I said? Is there somethin’ I can do? Anything, Kita, please, _please_ let me help you.”

Kita says nothing. Atsumu waits, he owes him that much. When he finally does speak, Atsumu is up and outta bed in seconds. At 04:01AM, he’s packing a duffel bag with clothes and a phone charger. At 04:38AM, he’s sending an e-mail to his coaches and a text to his brother as he sits on the metro. At 05:00AM, he’s getting on the first shinkansen. It’s a two hour ride to Kobe then two transfers, each an hour long, before he’s in the little town near Inarizaki where Kita’s grandmother lives. He’s been on an adrenaline high since Kita called him, and he feels disgusting after traveling so long. But finally, at just past 09:20AM, he stands on the train platform and he sees him. For the first time in almost a year. He looks tired, like he hasn’t slept in weeks, but he’s still the most beautiful thing Atsumu’s ever seen because he’s Kita Shinsuke and Atsumu’s loved him since he was fuckin’ 15. 

He’s frozen in place, unsure of what to do, and Kita notices him after a minute. When they lock eyes Atsumu is drawn over like a moth to a flame. Before he can think better of it, he crushes him to his chest. He’s ready to be pushed away, but Kita returns the hug without a second thought and allows one single sob. Atsumu is barely keeping himself from crying, he has to stay strong for Kita. He has to. But, _god_ , having this man in his arms again is the greatest feeling he can imagine.

It isn’t easy. It’s actually really fuckin’ _hard_. He’d met Kita’s grandmother a number of times (she’d come to every one of Shinsuke’s volleyball games), but this is probably the most time he’s ever spent with her. And she’s lying in a hospital bed, talking softly to her grandson, and dying. There’s a number of times when Atsumu wants nothing more than liquor. To numb himself. To sleep. But he thinks of Kita’s text that had said “please” and of ‘Samu sitting next to his hospital bed, looking older and more tired than he should be. And how Kita, right now, is shaking apart into pieces, and Kita _needs_ him. So he resists.

On the third night he’s there, he musters up the courage to ask Kita if he still loves him, if they can be together again one day. Kita can’t give him an answer. It hurts. A lot.

Granny passes on the fourth day, at 1:22PM on a Tuesday. Kita is strong at her side, holding her hand the entire time. When she’s gone, Atsumu rubs his back while he does paperwork. The strength finally cracks when they leave, and Atsumu has to help him get back to his grandmother’s house. They lay on the old couch and he holds him to his chest all afternoon and all night while he wails and sobs. Just the sound of Kita suffering so much has him crying, too. He helps him make the calls to set up the cremation and the funeral, helps him sort through her will and possessions. But he also makes sure he eats, makes sure he takes care of himself. And on days when he can’t do it himself, Atsumu does it for him.

He’s been sober 16 weeks when he sneaks out of the guest room one night after Kita’s finally fallen asleep. He walks aimlessly and ends up at a bar down the street. Feeling empty and tired, he orders a drink. As he holds the first sip in his mouth ( _god_ it stings, did alcohol always taste like this?), all he can think of is Kita sleeping back at his grandmother’s house. Thinks of how worried and confused he’d be if he woke up alone, how disappointed he’d be if he knew Atsumu was _here_ , after everything. So he puts it down, pays, and goes back. In the light of morning, he admits to his rendezvous. He apologizes for being weak, for being selfish. Kita just hugs him. It feels almost like forgiveness. Or at least acceptance.

Eventually he runs out of time. He needs to get back to Osaka, back to work. They were kind enough to give him this much leave after they’ve _just_ brought him back, after all the trouble he’s caused. But standing on the platform with Kita, not knowing when he’ll see him again is one of the greatest pains of his life. All he wants is to be able to kiss him before he leaves. But Kita doesn’t want that, and Atsumu refuses to make him suffer any more than he already has. He has to be satisfied with the fact that they’re at least talking again, that he’s regained at least that much trust. His train is minutes away when he decides to make a fool of himself, just a little.

“I love you. I still do and I-I’m pretty sure I always will.” The way Kita looks at him makes his ribs ache. He doesn’t get an answer. Not to the question he’d asked days ago, not to the words he has now. But Kita hugs him. Tightly.

“Safe travels,” he says softly, before stepping away. It’s a rough 4 hours back home. In his lowest moment of the day, he wonders if this is how Kita felt all those months ago, traveling so far and feeling so raw but so empty at the same time.

* * *

When Atsumu returns to Hyogo, he’s been sober 5 months and he’s filled with a nervous hope. He has the weekend off and he’d called Kita last week with a question. Feeling like he was 16 again, he’d asked his ex-boyfriend if he could take him out on a date. Just one, he’d promised. And if Kita hated it, he’d drop the whole thing and they could just be friends. Atsumu could learn to live with that. And, to his honest surprise, Kita had said yes. 

So here he is. On the first train again, but with a real suitcase this time (that he spent _way_ too much time packing). Kita meets him at the station again, just as beautiful as he’d been the last time (and every time Atsumu has ever seen him) and lookin’ a little better. The color has returned to his face and his hair is soft and shiny when he greets Atsumu with a hug. Not entirely back to normal, but he’s able to mention his granny without crying. He helps him get to the local inn before they part ways, Atsumu promising to be by to pick him up at 6. 

It’s a stressful few hours. Atsumu wants so badly to do this right, wants so badly for Kita to enjoy it. He’d gotten his hair touched up recently (Kita had always liked his hair) and Terushima had given him some styling advice. It doesn’t turn out quite like he’d wanted it to, but it at least looks more put together. He changes into one of the carefully, agonizingly chosen outfits from his suitcase and spends about 20 minutes fussing over himself before he finally gives up. The florist isn’t exactly on the way, but it’s close enough (and he left _way_ too early in his nervousness) that he has time to agonize over that decision, too.

When Kita opens his front door, it’s exactly 5 ‘til and––not to sound like a broken record but––holy _shit_ he’s beautiful. No, not just beautiful, he’s fuckin’ _breathtaking_. He’s wearing the same type of plain clothes he’s always worn and his hair is no different, but Atsumu wants to worship the ground he walks on. After staring for an embarrassing amount of time, Atsumu feels kinda ridiculous and overdone. But Kita smiles at the flowers and thanks him, so he figures he didn’t do too bad. Before they head out, he makes one request. He’d like to pay respects to Granny. Kita’s eyes look a little watery for a moment but he nods and leads the way to the altar near the window. 

He keeps the date simple: dinner and a sunset stroll. Kita had always liked simple. It feels like their very first date all over again with Shinsuke placid as ever and Atsumu unable to shut his goddamn mouth. But it feels so good and so right that it kills him just a bit when they’re back at Shinsuke’s front door. The moon and stars above them light up Shinsuke’s pale skin and Atsumu wants to kiss him so badly. To press him up against the front door and kiss along his neck until he whispers Atsumu’s name and makes those quiet little sounds Atsumu’d always gone wild for. But he can’t do that. So he settles for a hug, for the feeling of Shinsuke’s head resting on his collar bone. Every last thought leaves his mind when Shinsuke presses his lips to his cheek and he knows his face is burning bright red.

“G’night, Atsumu,” Shinsuke says, smiling gently as he steps back toward his door. Atsumu stumbles over his words in his rush to keep Shinsuke out here with him for just one more second.

“C-Can I take you out again tomorrow?”

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

That night, laying in the uncomfortable bed back at the inn, he swears he’s never felt lighter. There’s still no promises, no confessions or declarations. He’s still rebuilding Kita’s trust, and that will take time.

But there’s a chance. A small one, but most things start that way. And a chance is all he needs.

**Author's Note:**

> Tag Info (SPOILERS!)
> 
> Minor Character Death: Kita's grandmother (nothing graphic or hardcore, just a simple reality that results in a lot of grief for Kita)  
> Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism: Atsumu (includes mentions of hospitalization, blackouts, but again nothing graphic or super detailed)  
> Mentions of Sex: Mentioned directly once but otherwise just the occasional lusty thoughts from Atsumu  
> Explicit Language: They say fuckin' a lot. Like a looooooot.
> 
> That should cover it. Hope y'all enjoyed, thanks for reading! Here's hoping the next thing I post is less painful lmao


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